


you want to fuck and fight

by likewinning



Series: little beasts [55]
Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics)
Genre: Kitchen Sex, Knifeplay, M/M, trash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-27
Updated: 2015-07-27
Packaged: 2018-04-11 10:31:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4431878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/likewinning/pseuds/likewinning
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I want to learn to fight with knives / to hotwire cars / to cook for myself."</p>
            </blockquote>





	you want to fuck and fight

**Author's Note:**

> Summary/prompt source from A Softer World: http://www.asofterworld.com/clean/DIY.jpg

"It's easy," Jason says. "I'll help you."

Tim burns the first three things he tries to cook. "You could've told me," he says, and Jason snorts from his spot on the counter, asks, "Then how are you ever supposed to learn, baby?"

Tim looks at him like he wants to grab one of the kitchen knives and use it on him, but he's fucking _blushing_ , too, like this one thing he can't do is killing him. Jason helps Tim clean up, opens all the windows before the smoke alarms go off and then makes them something else to eat.

It was easier to teach Tim how to hotwire cars. Jason barely had to show him a thing before they snatched up a Lexus from the business district, a Mercedes from outside Robinson Park. Tim laughed too loud when they sped out of the parking lot and Jason was sure they'd get caught, sure they'd have to explain to some officer why they both had knives and guns on them, explosive material hidden in their boots. But Tim just kept going like it was nothing, parked the car in a garage off 85th and climbed over the driver's side and into Jason's lap. 

It was easier, for Tim, to learn the right way to carve someone up, to learn which arteries bleed the fastest, how to make it look like someone so much bigger and stronger did the job. Jason's seen him take down men three times the size of him, seen Tim use a blade like an extension of his hand – but give the little fucker a piece of steak, and he'll all but set the house on fire.

"No wonder you're so skinny," Jason tells him. "What the hell did you live off before we found you?"

Tim doesn't answer; he always goes quiet when Jason asks him about _before_. Jason knows Tim went to school once, knows he grew up rich, knows Tim hated it. But he shuts down, _distracts_ if Jason asks for anything else.

"C'mere," Jason says a few days later. He drags Tim back into the kitchen, stands right behind him with his chin on Tim's shoulder and guides him through the motions. He tells Tim when the pasta's ready, kisses Tim's neck and tells him how much wine to use with the tomatoes, slips his hand under Tim's shirt and slides his fingers over the scars there and tells him when to add the shrimp. 

Tim doesn't say a word while they work, just shivers when Jason bites at his earlobe and pinches his nipple through his shirt, smiles almost like someone normal when Jason tells him he did a good job.

After they eat, they finish off a bottle of wine and Tim pushes Jason down to the floor, crawls on top of him and pulls his knife from his back pocket, tears Jason's shirt off with it.

"Fucker," Jason says. "I liked this shirt. B gave it to me."

"Yeah," Tim says. "I know." His eyes are all lit up like when he needs something, needs to fight and fuck and smoke three of Jason's cigarettes in a row before he tells them they're disgusting.

"What do you need, baby?" Jason asks and Tim doesn't answer, just flips Jason over and pushes the scraps of fabric out of the way, carves lines down Jason's back until blood drips down to the kitchen floor. Bruce is going to kill them when he gets back but Jason doesn't care, just grinds his dick against the floor while Tim cuts and carves and ruts against him. Tim licks down his spine, reaches underneath Jason to get his jeans off, and Jason whines when Tim gets his hand around his dick and starts working him fast, ruthless, not making a sound above him. He bangs his head against the floor when he comes, and Tim turns him back around, inspects the bruise on Jason's forehead with one hand while he licks the other one clean.

Jason gets his jeans open for him, sits up a little and gets his fingers around Tim's throat, and it only takes that little bit of pressure before Tim comes untouched, soundless, eyes rolling back in his head.

"Admit it," Jason says later, when they leave the kitchen without cleaning up a thing. "You just wanted to piss off Bruce."

Tim pushes Jason against the door frame and fucks his tongue into Jason's mouth, tasting like blood and wine. "Not just," he says.


End file.
